The angel Gabriel tells Mary straight out: “Nothing will be impossible for God.”
That’s the core tenet of Advent:
Get ready, because the impossible is somehow, suddenly, HAPPENING.
God shrinking His magnificent, eternal infinity into small, frail, human flesh.
Impossible.
God, Most High, descending.
God, the Holy One, stooping to save His unholy creatures.
God, Alpha and Omega, coming to live among us… that He might die for us… that we might abide with Him, forever.
Impossible.
Accepting the theological premises of Advent is the work of a lifetime.
But living into the “impossible” of God? That’s the work of eternity… starting right now.
Right now, with the dishes piled in the sink and the dog needing an allergy shot.
Right now, with the aftereffects of chemotherapy turning every smell into a stink and every taste into a gag reflex.
Right now, in this rather beleaguered-feeling ordinary moment, the impossible.
Mary’s response to the Angel Gabriel’s announcement sets a high bar, indeed. “Here I am,” she says to him. “A handmaiden of the Lord. Let it be unto me according to your word.”
My own response to the glorious impossible these days more closely resembles David’s in Psalm 69:
I sink in deep mire,
(Psalm 69:2 – 3)
where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
with waiting for my God.
The good news: there is room for us, too, in this glorious impossible. There is room for us graspers and groaners – us stragglers and be-moaners. David is the “man after God’s own heart,” so God clearly makes room in His impossible for the broken-hearted.
But it’s hard.
It’s hard to hold onto the promise of God’s impossible when the impossible of circumstances and sickness and spiritual exhaustion make holding on feel – well – impossible.
In my mind’s eye, I see this world creak on its axis, spinning every year heavily, the weight of hurting and hopelessness weighing it down. It seems to me that pain keeps it fixed in its orbit.
“In this world, you will face tribulation…”
Jesus only ever speaks the truth. Jesus knows the impossibility of living on this planet without coming to edge of the precipice, so He speaks the words we would rather not hear.
“In this world, you will face tribulation…”
He doesn’t leave us with the statement, however. He completes the statement with a command:
“In this world, you will face tribulation; but take heart, I have overcome this world.”
John 16:33
Taking heart is tricky when your heart is heavy, leaking tears.
Taking heart requires an act of the will – hard to muster up the gumption for that when your own exhaustion is suffocating you.
But the “taking heart” is required if we are ever going to experience the “overcoming”.
The “taking heart” is the prerequisite for experiencing the impossible of Advent.
Mary had to take heart. She did!
In the moment between hearing the impossible pronouncement of the Angel Gabriel and the moment of surrendering herself fully to the impossible plan of God, Mary had to face the tribulation she would surely encounter as an unmarried pregnant teen in a culture which stoned fallen virgins to death.
Mary had to acknowledge in her own heart: this will cost me… everything.
And then Mary had to take heart, to surrender, to get swept up into the tsunami of God’s ferocious grace which was coming into the world through her “yes.”
Mary leads by example. Her taking heart empowers us to do likewise… to face the tribulations and take a deep breath and say “let it be unto me according to your word.”
The core tenet of Advent doesn’t change. Nothing will be impossible for God.
Nothing has been impossible for God.
Nothing IS impossible for God.
Nothing will be impossible for God.
Christ is still coming for us; Christ is still saving us; Christ is still with us – Emmanuel – and we can take heart that He has overcome this world and all the tribulations it hurls at us.
We probably won’t hear, personally, from the Angel Gabriel this Advent season. But we don’t really need to. He’s already brought the once-and-for-all-time good news. He’s already invited us into the radiant goodness of God’s impossible. And the Holy Spirit has already taken up residence in our hearts, so that we can take heart by His grace and in His power.
The angel Gabriel tells Mary straight out: “Nothing will be impossible for God.”
Get ready, because the impossible is somehow, suddenly, HAPPENING.
